


Weight of The World

by orphan_account



Category: Persona 5, Persona Series
Genre: Akechi is mildly self destructive and slightly suicidal so minor tw, Akechi's 3rd tier awakening, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canon Compliant, Love Confessions, M/M, Major P5R Spoilers, Mild Sexual Content, Persona 5: The Royal Spoilers, kind of, up to feb 2nd
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2020-05-03
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:41:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23837059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: A future is not given to you, it is something you must take for yourself.-On their last night, Akira wants to pick up the pieces of the mirror that he broke. Major P5R third semester spoilers.
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira
Comments: 6
Kudos: 163





	Weight of The World

**Author's Note:**

> i finished p5r and i am really really not okay tbh, but i kept thinking about the ending line to NieR: Automata, which is "a future is not given to you, it is something you must take for yourself", so did my dumb ass really write a fic with a nier automata motif? yes, yes i did.
> 
> anyway major p5r spoilers for the third semester.  
> Context for this scene (MAJOR P5R SPOILERS): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6Zp6IGEM29s&t=584s
> 
> Weight of the World: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Egn_VNVKzI4

It all made perfect sense. He shouldn’t have been here. In a way, he wasn’t. Akechi stood before them like a ghost, an echo that lasted long beyond the cry that preceded it.

Maruki told him that this was a chance, a new start. An opportunity to fix the injustice and unfairness that seemed to follow Akira like a plague. The most recent of which, and somewhat the most painful, being the loss of his temporary teammate and rival, the detective prince Goro Akechi.

Akechi, ever brazen and embittered towards the world that hurt him, was furious at the notion of someone like Takuto Maruki deciding where he ends. Akira, unsure of how to even begin processing this revelation, allowed his suspension of disbelief to run wild, if it meant Akechi was here, again, with him. To keep him as close as possible, shield him away from the pain, away from the rotten adults that ruined his life. The rotten adult that ruined  _ both  _ of their lives. 

But tonight, he couldn’t feel further away from him.

“Or, are you really so spineless that you’d fold over some bullshit, trivial threat on my life?”

_ Yes.  _

Mona had trotted upstairs, while the two thieves stood face-to-face. Akira could hardly breathe, the air was suffocating, like water was filling his lungs with every breath. It was late now, gentle white specs began dusting the windows of Leblanc, while Akechi stood, garnet eyes filled with determination and rage. 

Determination to let himself die. No, determination to  _ choose  _ to die. To disappear.

Akira shook his head. “It’s not that simple.” The words came out like lead, his mouth completely dry. Akechi shook his head with disgust.

“Your indecisiveness on the matter is essentially a betrayal of my wishes.”

_ Betrayal of his wishes. _

“...I need to hear you say it aloud.”

_ Do you want me to say I’ll let you die? _

“What will you do?” 

_ I don’t know. _

“I won’t wait a moment longer. Answer me.”

_ We’re taking the offer. _

Akira takes his hands out of his pockets. “We’re stopping Maruki.” 

His lips burned. He hates it, he hates it so much.

“All right. I’m relieved to hear it.”

_ Please, don’t make me do this. _

“I will never accept this form of reality. I’m done being manipulated.”

_ There has to be another way. _

“Let’s go back… to our true reality.”

Akira immediately wants to retract his words. 

But if he folds, he gives into everything he fought against. He becomes the mindless, autonomous puppet of Maruki’s play.Even then, if Akechi was still here, beside him, dancing ignorantly to the sounds of their captivity, would it really have been a prison, like performing on a stage? 

No, that wasn’t happiness. This could never be happiness. What stood before him, the spirit of rebellion, Akechi’s two parts, reflecting themselves in Hereward, was real. That’s what Akira wanted.

“What’s a life worth in reality that was cooked up just to satisfy someone else? I say none.” 

Akechi turns to face the door. The light frost long disappeared, leaving only small traces of its presence. So ironic, it was almost cruel.

“We have to win this- no matter what.” 

Akechi gets in about two long strides towards Leblanc’s exit before Akira is reaching out for his arm, grabbing him and dragging him backwards. 

To his surprise, Akechi does little to fight back, simply looking shocked as Akira gathers the detective into his arms and holds him there, arms secured around his waist and back.

He feels the older boy scoff. 

“Pathetic.” Akechi murmurs. 

Akira knows, though. He can feel it.

Akechi is crying. 

The brunette is limp in his leader’s arms, not bothering to raise his head from its position against Akira’s shoulder. “Why…” He whispers. 

“Why won’t you let me die…?” There’s desperation behind his voice, it’s tight and constrained, the beginnings of a cry floating underneath the words. 

Akechi doesn’t cry, though. Instead, he slowly raises his arms to cling to Akira, feeling his heartbeat rattle in his chest.

“I’m letting you go. That’s what you wanted, right?” Akira is solemn as always, but the hopelessness he exudes right now is enough to convince Akechi that this is truly hurting him.

Akira is pulling away, and he can feel Akechi tightening his grip on the back of his coat. 

His hands move to grab the soft folds of the detective’s scarf, not making eye contact until Akechi gives a condescending laugh.

“I’ve shown you who I really am. I’ve proved to you that I wouldn’t hesitate to kill you for my own benefit. So why… why do you keep up this- this showing of… pity.” 

Akechi’s eyes are glassy, but he holds his stance.   
  


“You don’t deserve to die. You know that, somewhere deep down. You know you deserve to live.” Akira’s grip on Akechi’s scarf tightens. “It’s not pity.”

_ I love you. _

Akechi’s dry laugh begins to mix with the shaking from holding back tears. “Then what is it, if not pity, Kurusu?”

_ You’re going to die. Let me have this. _

Akira pulls on Akechi’s scarf, slamming him into a messy and angry kiss. Akechi flinches, before squirming to escape with no actual effort behind it, tears staining his cheeks. Akira is quick to pull him into the closest booth, hands moving to remove the scarf, as if it was an anchor to the last shred of doubt Akechi had. 

The detective grabbed a fistful of curly black locks, pulling the thief as close as possible while he allowed him to climb atop him. Akira’s hands had already begun undoing the buttons on Akechi’s pea coat, while he gasped for air above him.

“That’s what this was, then.” Akechi said. There wasn’t any venom in his words, just melancholy and relief.

“This is your fault.” Akira began, letting Akechi sit up to shrug off his coat. “ I can’t hate you, I could never hate you.” 

Those words pierced Akechi like bullets, as he thought back to their endeavor in mementos, wherein he had told his leader that he, in fact, did hate him. 

Here, in this moment, with nothing holding him to this world anymore, except for the promise to take down Maruki, Akechi let himself fall apart. 

He grabs Akira by the collar, pulling him back down to connect their lips again, the boy’s glasses pushing into the bridge of his nose. 

Akechi has no idea what he’s doing, he had never kissed anyone before and frankly had no prior interest until he found himself thinking about it a little more than he should, and only after his time with a particular Phantom Thief. 

Something inside him knew what this was, but he pushed it down, far away from his life so it couldn’t hurt him. No matter what he did, though, it clawed its way up his throat and now, it was lighting every inch of his body on fire.

Akira’s fingertips brush the hem of Akechi’s dress shirt, sending shivers through this skin. Akechi lets Akira take charge, tongue ever-so-gentle against his lips, while Akechi runs his hands up and down his back, across his shoulder blades, feeling the taut muscles through the fabric of his shirt.

They pull apart again to breathe, the detective prince beneath Akira, dimly lit in the cafe’s booth. His cheeks pink with adrenaline, pristine hair mused and tangled. The brunette reached out to Akira, his leather gloves against his face, tracing invisible lines.

“You are truly strange, Kurusu.” Akechi said without a smile.

Akira’s hands moved to Akechi’s face as well, gently and slowly moving his thumb across his bottom lip. The gesture made the detective shudder with what he could only assume was pleasure. He’s vaguely aware of his own arousal, despite the circumstances, and the rocking of Akira’s hips can only indicate that the thief felt the same way.

“Stay here tonight.” Akira states. He knows it’s a question, but Akechi isn’t going to deny him, not like he even wants to. 

No more vitriolic statements or biting remarks. Akechi just stares and whispers back at him.

“Okay.”

_ Tell me God, are you punishing me? _

_ Is this the price I'm paying for my past mistakes? _

**Author's Note:**

> wow this was super rushed towards the end, im probably gonna rewrite it
> 
> unbeta'd so sorry for any repeat words/grammatical errors/general badness


End file.
